


The Train

by project_canary



Series: Take Me Home [1]
Category: Sideshow - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Western AU, basically a red dead au, theyre all cowboys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21819907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/project_canary/pseuds/project_canary
Summary: Getting sent away for misconduct isn’t the worst thing that’s happened to Buck in his life, but getting caught in the middle of a train robbery while on the way might make the top 5.
Series: Take Me Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572283
Kudos: 1





	The Train

The train roared along the track, and Buck was miserable as he tried to sit back and watch the barren landscape fly by. Really, he’d rather be anywhere besides on this train headed to Dead Cow Junction or where ever it was his parents decided to ship him off to. He let himself sink down, groaning as his head hit the bottom of the seat. Not only were they punishing him by sending him off to get “reformed” or whatever they had said, they had to torture him with a 12 hour train ride. Buck stood, knowing he couldn’t stay in his cabin this whole time, unless he wanted to go crazy. The sun beat in through the glass window, and he grabbed his hat as he slid the door open, entering the narrow hallway. The train seemed to rock more as he stood, and Buck gripped the door as he steadied himself. A conductor tipped his hat as he passed Buck, and Buck did the same. Buck exhaled, taking a shaky step forward. _I can do this._

He walked up and down the train as many times as he could, eventually feeling comfortable enough to let go of the rail, and then enough to get a little cocky as he walked, doing little dance steps and balancing between cars. They wouldn’t let him into the last car, but for a while Buck was content enough walking through the rest of the cars that he didn’t mind.

For a while.

As the sun set and the sky was painted the color of fire, Buck caught sight of…something in the distance. He was dangling between train cars, enjoying the wind blowing through his clothes, the thrill of knowing how close to death he could be and being careless. He squinted, hoping that whatever was there could come into focus. It seemed to be a dim light, flickering in the darkening landscape.

“Hmm…” Buck hummed, pulling himself into the next train. He walked easily along the car, reaching the caboose. The conductor there this time was different from the last time Buck has been there, suggesting there must have been a shift change. This one looked younger, more inexperienced. Buck leaned against the wall, lazily staring out the window as the desert. The rumble of the huge train engine was far away, but the quick clicking of the cars was ever present. Buck faked a yawn, watching out of the corner of his eye as the conductor tried to stifle his own yawn. Buck waited a few moments, making his conversation seem unplanned and fluid.

“Hey, how’s this trip been?” Buck smiled, and the conductor took the bait.

“Oh, too long. I can’t wait to get there. Really.” The conductor’s shoulders dropped, and Buck placed a comforting hand on his arm, leaning in to whisper in the man’s ear.

“I mean, I’m already up, if you wanted to take a little break…” Buck raised his eyebrows.

“No,” the conductor resisted. “I can’t do that.”

“C’mon,” Buck urged. “Just a little nap. Think about it, you’ll be much more effective with a little rest.” The man took a breath, looking Buck up and down.

“Okay, but just ten minutes.”

“I’ll be right here,” Buck saluted as the conductor walked away, looking back over his shoulder once before entering one of the cabins. “More than enough time.”

Buck waited a minute before sliding open the door to the caboose. It was dark out now, the only light coming from behind him, and the dull glow of the moon above. Buck glanced down at the fast moving track and jumped, landing squarely on the next train. He grunted as he forced open the caboose door, then slid it closed behind him. It was dark in the car, and from what Buck could tell, it seemed to be all storage.

“Well this is boring,” Buck mumbled, shuffling his way around the trunks and various cargo. He reached the back and peered through the round window. A single lantern swung on the small platform. Buck let his eyes adjust to the dark past the lantern. There it was again. The light on the horizon. But it was much closer this time. Close enough that Buck could see the rider that held the light as he galloped along the train tracks, and the other riders keeping pace with him, watched as they pulled out their guns and…oh no. Buck stepped back in shock, stumbling backwards over a wooden trunk.

It’s a train robbery.

He looked around, desperately trying to figure out what to do. He didn’t have time to run back, and seeing a pile of coats, he decided to take his chances. He had barely covered his head when he heard the thud of someone landing on the back platform. A rush of air filled the car as the door slid open, then silence as the person closes it. He’s breathing heavily and Buck keeps as still as possible, listening as the person takes a step forward, immediately stubbing their toe on the same trunk Buck had tripped over.

“Shit,” the man hissed, and Buck watched the shadows dance across the sides of the train as the man caught himself, walking through the various trunks that Buck had moved around. Buck held his breath as the man reached his the other end of the car, and his footsteps stopped. Buck leaned sideways to try and see if the man was still there, and as he did pushed a coat rack, sending it clattering to the ground. Buck could tell he was still covered and now he had a clear view of the man, who had now swung around, his gun drawn and lantern held high.

Buck wasn’t religious, didn’t believe in God, or an afterlife, although the idea sounded nice, but as the man slowly stepped slowly towards Buck’s hiding spot, he tried his best to pray. The man’s boots jingled as his spurs rolled with each step, and Buck could see the black boots covered by leather chaps. He stepped close enough that Buck could smell the dirt in his boots, smell his sweat. Buck held his breath as the man reached down to pick up the rack, more than likely revealing Buck as he would do so. A flurry of gunshots and yelling causes the man to spin, distracting him enough to make him forget about the mysterious coat rack, and instead he scrambled to the front of the train car once again, glancing over his shoulder once before sliding the door open and jumping to the next car. Buck exhaled, knocking over another rack of coats.

Buck has snuck back to his cabin after he decided that the action was over, only to be confronted by the conductor that Buck had told to take a nap. Apparently, he had been reprimanded for “abandoning his post” and “allowing bandits to sneak on the train.”

“This is your fault,” the conductor pointed, and Buck held up his hands in defense.

“Keep your voice down,” Buck shushed. “And you should really be thanking me.” The conductor crossed his arms, inhaling sharply. “Think about it. What would those bandits have done if they found you at that door? Tell you to move and go away when you said no? No!” Buck raised his voice, and he watched the conductor’s eyes widen in surprise. “They would have shot you!” The conductor took an involuntary step back, and Buck smiled.

“I didnt-I wasn’t…” The conductor stuttered, but Buck already was placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“No need to thank me,” Buck grinned, guiding the conductor out of his cabin, slowly closing the door after Buck watched him walk in a daze down the hallway.

After the robbery, the last leg of the trip was like the first part: boring as hell. Buck tried to sleep a little, but before he knew it, they were pulling into the station. He collected the one suitcase he brought, following the crowd out onto the platform, steam from the train drifting through the people. Buck pushed his way through the gathering people, watching them meet their families and loved ones and felt panic rising in his chest. He spun around, the darkness cutting off the end of the platform. His breath quickened, and he spun again, running straight into a solid mass.

“Easy there son,” a voice comforted, and Buck felt a hand grip his shoulder. Buck faced the voice, his eyebrows raising in surprise. The man was wearing a black pressed button up and a white collar. _A priest._ Buck rolled his eyes internally. The man still smiled, his eyes crinkling behind his round glasses. He tilted his head as he quickly examined Buck. “You are Sir Bucklington, correct?”

“Who’s asking?”

“My name’s Father Keenan, I’m supposed to pick you up,” the priest dropped the smile, and his eyebrows knit together. “Did I get the wrong telegram?”

“No, you’re right. That’s me.” Buck groaned.

“Perfect, well, grab your things and we can head out.” Buck leaned down, picking up his one suitcase and realized that the platform had mostly cleared out. Buck watched Keenan stride down the platform, his boots clicking on the wood. Buck took a step then stopped.

He had hear that clicking before. Keenan paused before the stairs, realizing that Buck wasn’t following him.

“C’mon! It’s going to be light before we get back!” He joked, then continued down the stairs, the spurs on his boots reflecting the candlelight and jingling as he bounced down the stairs.

Those were the same spurs.

Father Keenan was the bandit on the train.

And Buck was going to live with him.


End file.
